A Destructive Wish
by harri.xo
Summary: Prompt: Wish Will one man's wish destroy the Taggart team?
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I do not own Taggart_

**Prompt: Wish**

Wish – _verb_; to desire something that cannot or probably will not happen.

He sits hunched in the corner booth of the coffee house, staring fixatedly at the boutique across the street. He makes no movements throughout the day, only raising his hand slightly to draw the attention of the waitress as he drains cup after cup. His energies are spent in surveillance, observing her, as she goes about the duties of her occupation. In her lunchbreak, she crosses the street to the coffee house, and sits and talks with the waitress. He turns in his seat, resting his chin on the back, admiring the way the sunlight dances through her hair and across her cheek, revelling in the sound of her voice. As she shuts her boutique for the day, he slowly rises from his seat, handing the waitress today's total, before following in her wake as she walks to her apartment. Dissolving into the shadows, discreetly he slips inside her apartment after her. Limbs jerking somewhat as a result of his caffeine influx, he tenderly whispers her name. She turns sharply, her face reflecting expressions of fear and confusion. He moves toward her, eager to clasp her to him in a comforting embrace, but she seems to misunderstand, roughly pushing him away. He manages to grab her, but she starts to scream, so he must place his hand over her mouth to muffle the sound. His grip tightens as she continues to struggle, until she stops abruptly and goes limp in his arms. Stealing the kiss he wished from her in life, he tenderly lowers her to the floor, before clinically removing all traces of his presence from her apartment. As he turns to leave, he whispers her name reverently; slightly forlorn that he had no choice but to dispose of her. His period of mourning is but momentary, as he makes his way determinedly from her flat into the heart of the city. Entering the atrium of his workplace, he spies a woman leaving for the day, and in that moment decides she is worthy of his admiration. The woman's physicality is remarkable in its likeness to _her_, and she seems to reflect none of the stresses and strains of her profession. He hears her name called by raucous colleagues, excited by the end of the workday and he repeats it in his head, committing it to memory. Fading into the background as she passes by him, he murmurs to himself, anticipating the day she hears his voice.

"Good night, Miss Reid."


	2. Chapter 2

An icy shiver dancing down her spine, Jackie nervously glanced around the lobby; certain she had heard someone whisper her name. So absorbed was she in her search, she failed to notice Robbie vying for her attention.

"Jackie?" Robbie stepped around in front of her. Noticing her anxious expression, he laid both his hands on her shoulders. "Is something wrong?"

She shook her head slowly, hoping to dissipate the nervous shocks coursing through her body. Finding her voice, she murmured "No, it's nothing. My imagination playing tricks on me, that's all."

Robbie draped an arm around her shoulders and ushered her toward the door. "It's been a long day."

"DCI Burke!" A uniformed sergeant's voice echoed throughout the deserted lobby. Matt paused, his hand on the door, grumbling under his breath. "A call just came through – the body of a young woman was discovered in an apartment block down by the river."

Heaving a sigh, Matt relinquished his hold of the door, directing his team toward the pool cars instead. "We'll be there in ten," he called to the sergeant, managing to keep the exhaustion he was feeling out of his voice. Shrugging off their own exhaustion, his team followed behind him, although Jackie unconsciously gazed around the lobby, still searching for the owner of the mysterious voice.

Arriving at the crime scene, the compulsive cleanliness of the apartment was noted with trepidation by all members of the team.

"Why do we always cop the killers who are card-carrying members of 'Nuts 'R Us'?" Robbie muttered disdainfully under his breath.

"Does your insensitivity setting have an off-switch, Robbie?" Smacking him on the shoulder, Jackie stepped around him, moving toward Matt and Stuart, who were in deep discussion with the ME. The atmosphere in the apartment was unsettling her, and the shaken expressions on Matt and Stuart's faces confirmed that something disturbing had taken place. As she moved to join them, she had to pass the body, and against her better judgement, she averted her eyes and focused instead on the photos sitting on the mantelpiece. Glimpsing a photo of the deceased women, she froze, and let out a choked gasp.

The deceased woman was the spitting image of her.

_The rush from the combination of caffeine and adrenaline pumping through his system gave him confidence. He sealed the note with a kiss, and placed it on her desk. No present would be complete without a card, after all._


	3. Chapter 3

The initial feelings of shock and confusion that had enveloped Jackie as the result of her discovery had evolved into a determination to track down and punish the person who had murdered that poor woman. She absentmindedly sipped a cup of sweetened coffee that Stuart had prepared for her while she focused on the report the ME had prepared at the scene. Bonnie Anderson had died as a result of asphyxiation, and the ME put forward the hypothesis that the hand of an exceptionally strong man had been responsible, given the particles of skin that had been retrieved from her nose and throat. This discovery unsettled Jackie, as the report indicated the level of strength required to completely deprive a person of oxygen would most likely be found in military or law enforcement personnel. There was the possibility that someone she worked with was a murderer.

Matt, Robbie and Stuart were holed up in Matt's office, keeping a cautious eye on Jackie. She'd retained her composure thus far; however, Stuart's search through the police database had turned up information that could shatter her equanimity. The murder of Bonnie Anderson wasn't an isolated incident. Fiona Sutherland and Heather Murray had both died of asphyxiation in suspicious circumstances, and the physical similarities between the three murdered woman and Jackie were undeniable. The three men were attempting to decide which one of them would break the news to Jackie.

"I think it would be best if she heard the news from a friend."

"Nice of you to volunteer, Stuart," Matt looked relieved. He was decidedly uncomfortable with the thought that a serial killer had an obsession with hunting women who resembled an officer on his team.

Robbie remained silent as Stuart walked out into the bullpen toward Jackie's desk. He was grateful he didn't have to break the news to Jackie, although he was willing to offer her a comforting shoulder if she required one. He wasn't sure exactly how she'd take it, but he was certain it would largely involve shooting the messenger and Stuart could handle that far better than he could, even without the exhaustion that was presently clouding his brain. Matt came to stand beside him, observing Jackie through the glass partition with fatherly concern. The two men couldn't quite make out what Stuart was murmuring to Jackie, but they both caught Jackie's expression as she noticed the white envelope sitting on her desk. They watched as her composure dissolved as she read the contents of the note contained in the envelope, not missing the mixture of consternation and concern that spread across Stuart's face as he read over her shoulder. As Stuart pulled Jackie into a comforting embrace, Matt and Robbie turned to each other in resignation.

Jackie was the killer's next target.

_My dear Miss Reid,_

_Please accept my gift to you. A beautiful woman like you deserves exquisite, precious gifts. I hope it goes some way to demonstrate to you how much I adore you. There is so much I long to say to you, but the timing isn't right. You won't have long to wait, however. You have captivated me and I long to make you mine alone._

_Tell then, my angel,_

_An admirer._


	4. Chapter 4

"That sick bastard treats a dead body as a gift?" Matt was pacing furiously across the bullpen, a thunderous expression on his face. In an effort to vent his frustrations, he slammed his hand against the wall, causing Robbie to slosh hot coffee into his lap. Muttering a curse, he began to dab at the stain with kitchen towelling, shooting a glare toward a sniggering Stuart as he did so. Recollecting himself, Matt dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, darting a glance toward the squad room door. Jackie had retreated to the ladies room in an effort to compose herself, and Matt didn't want her returning unexpectedly and overhearing his next remarks. "One of us needs to escort Jackie home. I don't care how strong and together she says she feels – she shouldn't be left alone tonight." Robbie made eye contact with Matt over Stuart's head, before simultaneously dropping their gazes to their younger colleague's face. Adopting a sheepish expression, Stuart protested, mumbling an excuse of which the only discernable phrase was "have a date." With a knowing smile, Matt gave his constable permission to leave, but not before issuing Stuart with a directive to arrive on time in the morning "no matter how good a time you have." Flushing scarlet, Stuart nodded, before scurrying out into the corridor, eager to escape from his teasing colleagues. Chuckling, Matt began his own preparations to depart for the evening, but abruptly stopped upon noticing Robbie's slightly murderous expression.

"I've had to stay and work despite having a date hundreds of times. Why does Stuart's social life take precedence over mine?"

"Haven't you ever heard of the boy who cried wolf, Robbie? The constant stream of bimbos you classify as a dating life doesn't cut it in my book as a reasonable excuse to abandon work. Besides, you only have to walk down the street to attract potential partners. Some of us have to work a lot harder." With a knowing smile, Matt made to leave. As he exited into the corridor, he called "Be on time in the morning. And take good care of Jackie."

Realisation dawning, Robbie shouted at his boss' retreating back "Stuart gets the evening off but I get stuck with Jackie? What if I had other plans this evening?"

"I certainly won't stop you. I wouldn't want to cramp your style, after all." The familiar voice caused Robbie to freeze, guilt knotting his stomach.

"Shit," he murmured under his breath. When did her movements become so stealthy? He turned around, an apology forming on his lips, before he was struck by how composed she looked, despite what she had been through so far this evening. Smiling at having caught him unawares, she gathered her things from her desk, asking him "Should we go? I think I'm right in assuming your company is meant to be of some comfort to me. I suppose I'll make do."

Poking his tongue out at her, Robbie grabbed his own things and fell into step with her as they exited the bullpen, filled with grudging respect for Jackie's quick wit. Life certainly was never boring in her company.

_He watched her and that skirt chasing colleague of hers leave for the evening. The sight didn't worry him particularly, as he knew she possessed enough intelligence and self respect not to fall for his charm. However, he would have to monitor the situation. After all, she belonged solely to him._


	5. Chapter 5

"Make yourself at home," Jackie murmured sarcastically as Robbie barged past her into her kitchen. His face assumed an expression of mock hurt, before he gently guided her toward the lounge chair.

"You've had a long and stressful day. Sit down and I'll cook us dinner. Actual dinner," he insisted, upon seeing her raised eyebrows and incredulous expression. "No pizza this time."

She smiled at the fond memory, before sinking gratefully into the chair, her eyes fluttering closed. She'd made the decision while composing herself in the ladies room that, while it was perfectly acceptable to feel scared in her current situation, working herself into a nervous frenzy only made the situation worse. She trusted her team, and knew they wouldn't let anything happen to her. As for Robbie, despite that the majority of their conversations descended into bickering, his presence in her home this evening offered a surprising amount of comfort to her. Her mind sufficiently calm and controlled, she opened her eyes to keep tabs on Robbie as he fussed about in her kitchen.

Seeing her eyes open, Robbie gave her a small smile, before joking "Keeping tabs on me?"

"You read my mind," Jackie replied in mock surprise. "I'm concerned about the impact your cooking will have on the cleanliness of my kitchen."

"If I'm responsible for cleaning up, the impact will definitely be minimal."

Jackie laughed pleasantly as she rose and moved gracefully toward the kitchen.

"What do you think you're doing?" Robbie stepped across to block her path. "I'm not accustomed to people breathing down my neck while I'm cooking."

Adopting an innocent expression, Jackie replied "I was going to lay the table. Is that allowed?"

He grudgingly stepped aside. "Permission granted. At least you can't make a mess."

She flashed him a sly smile. "Don't underestimate me, Robbie. After all, you volunteered to clean up."

Ducking past him with the utensils, she narrowly avoided the ladle he'd attempted to swat her with. Another round to Jackie.

As Robbie placed the dinner plates on the table, Jackie was torn between exasperation and amusement.

"Mac and cheese? That's your idea of dinner?"

Robbie had the grace to look embarrassed. "I'll have you know, Jacqueline Reid, that mac and cheese combines two essential food groups – carbohydrates and dairy!"

Amusement won out at that, and she gave a pleasant laugh before sitting down to eat. "At least this is served on plates."

Chuckling, Robbie poured them both glasses of wine. "I knew you'd come around eventually."

Despite her initial objections, Jackie had enjoyed dinner, although she had taken advantage of the opportunity to rib him good naturedly. Robbie was now elbow deep in warm, sudsy water, fulfilling his promise to Jackie to clean up any mess. However, Jackie had insisted she be allowed to help, so she was drying and returning everything to the cupboards. Although he was grateful for her help, Robbie couldn't allow such a prime opportunity to cause mayhem pass him by.

"You've missed a spot," Robbie's face was an expression of childish glee as he flicked water and suds onto the plates Jackie was in the process of drying. However, he had underestimated Jackie's guile, as she came to stand beside him, flicking water and suds onto his shirt.

"So have you."

Eager to retaliate, Robbie ignored the water trickling down his chest and instead scoped up a handful of suds and flicked them into Jackie's hair. Before she could, in turn, react, he pulled out the plug and let the water drain. She resorted to flicking him with her tea towel, before pushing him gently out into her lounge room.

"Hopefully out here, you won't be tempted to cause chaos!"

Chuckling to himself, Robbie sank down into the lounge chair, flicking on the TV. Replacing the tea towel on the rack, Jackie sank down beside him. He brought up a sports channel, and Jackie groaned wearily. "Anything but sport."

Grudgingly, Robbie changed the channel, but he was eager to recommence battle. "I refuse to sit here and watch some romantic mush."

She took the bait, and turned to him, her eyes alight. A small part of him wondered why he took such enjoyment out of their disagreements, and why, despite being the instigator of many of their friendly confrontations, he was rarely angry or annoyed with her. No answer was forthcoming, however, as her home phone rang, breaking through the stimulating atmosphere that had descended over the two of them. She rose to answer it, whilst Robbie muted the television.

"Hello," Jackie paused for some moments. "Hello?" She hung up. "That's odd. No one was on the other end."

At this, Robbie spun around, the events of the evening placing him on red alert. Jackie, upon noticing his expression, made the same connection and the blood drained from her face.

"He knows my number?" she whispered breathily. Robbie was unsure what she wanted to hear, so he kept silent. She gave a small sigh, followed by a slight shake. "I'm going to prepare for bed. It's been a long day." She moved dazedly toward the hallway, before turning back to face him. "How long were you planning on staying with me?"

Robbie carefully considered the question. Matt had only stipulated one night of taking care of Jackie, however, he couldn't abandon her, now the killer had obtained her home phone number. Besides, she had been there for him in times of distress and uncertainty more times than he cared to remember. It seemed only fair that he lend a comforting shoulder to her now and again.

"As long as you need me," was his truthful reply.

She gave him a small, grateful smile. "Thank you." She disappeared down the hallway. Robbie unconsciously smiled to himself. For perhaps the first time in his life, he was exactly where he was needed.

_He gave an involuntary sigh of relief when he heard her voice. She hadn't succumbed to the charms of that man. He replaced the receiver, eager to continue to peruse the security tapes. Pausing the tape, he enlarged the image, until her face filled the screen. He traced his finger tenderly down the line of her cheek. She wouldn't have long to wait now._


	6. Chapter 6

Jackie awoke to the smell of breakfast being fried. Brushing her hair off her face, she rose from the bed, her brain still slightly bewildered from sleep. She padded quietly down the hallway, wrapping a robe around her shoulders. The sight of Robbie in shirtsleeves and boxers, frying up breakfast, stopped her in her tracks. He glanced up and caught sight of her, framed in the doorway to the lounge room, her mouth slightly open and eyes wide in surprise. Fumbling with the egg flip he held, he gave her a self conscious smile. "Sorry. I thought you might like some breakfast."

"It smells great." Jackie stepped into the living area, playing with the edge of her robe in embarrassment. It was a rare occurrence for her to encounter a half-dressed man anywhere, let alone in her kitchen cooking breakfast. She sat down tentatively, pouring herself coffee from the plunger. Given the atmosphere of domesticity between the two of them the previous evening, she was unsure how to handle the situation, and the fluttery feelings it stirred inside her chest.

"Did you sleep well?" Robbie enquired as he set the plates of breakfast on the table. After placing a call to a friend in the tech unit at the station, Robbie had been informed that Jackie's hang-up was traced to the Maryhill station phone lines. His sleep had been quite troubled after that. Thankfully, Jackie seemed well-rested, and she replied demurely "I did, thank you."

Raising a rasher of bacon to his lips, Robbie flashed a cheeky grin and asked Jackie with feigned nonchalance "Pleasant dreams?"

Jackie was determined to wipe the mischievous expression of his face. She grinned saucily and suggestively murmured "Very...satisfying."

Choking slightly on the bacon rasher, Robbie felt his eyes bulge. He didn't ordinarily struggle to deliver a comeback; however, the suggestiveness of Jackie's reply emptied his mind of logical thought.

The legendary Robbie Ross, flustered? Jackie had to explore this further.

"We were in the squad car...there were handcuffs." The mouthful of juice Robbie had just imbibed was spat back into the glass. "I felt wonderful...so exhilarated and free." Robbie started to cough nervously, fiddling with the collar of his shirt. "That final moment...when we arrested that twisted serial killer...I felt so incredibly satisfied."

Robbie sank against the back of the kitchen chair, stunned at the realisation that Jackie had played him. How, and more importantly why, had he let Jackie seize control of him in such a manner? Smiling triumphantly, Jackie moved toward the kitchen sink, juggling her plate, utensils and coffee mug with ease.

"Thank you for breakfast. The shower will be free if you want it. You'd cause quite a stir going to work dressed like that, after all."

Robbie glanced down at his appearance. So that's why she'd appeared flustered when she stumbled upon him. To her credit, she'd overcome it quickly and matched wits successfully with him yet again. Robbie smiled to himself as he cleaned up from breakfast and proceeded to dress for the day. He'd never known a woman quite like Jackie Reid.

Sighing in frustration, Robbie redialled the number for the officer in charge of the Maryhill nightshift. Across the bullpen in his office, Matt paced back and forth, occasionally barking instructions through the phone to the duty sergeant. When they had arrived for work, Matt had sent Jackie and Stuart to conduct interviews for the day, insuring Jackie was unaware of the disturbing developments in the hunt for her stalker. Matt had spent most of the day confirming the origin of the call to Jackie's home – the phone line from the desk of the duty sergeant. Robbie was therefore in the process of verifying the officers on nightshift duty the previous evening, whilst Matt grilled the sergeant currently on duty regarding the phone records. A mouthful of tepid coffee did nothing to energise Robbie, and he rubbed his hands wearily across his face. The list of officers who had access to the phone was substantial – too many to interview before Jackie and Stuart returned. He instead requested background information, which the officer said would be emailed to him within the hour. Matt appeared beside him, his demeanour rendered more gruff and daunting by his levels of frustration.

"They've got an exact time the call was made, but that seems to be the best they can do," Matt's voice was slightly hoarse as a result of his earlier outbursts. He resumed pacing, before sinking resignedly into a chair. "We're no closer to nailing this bastard." He glanced over at Robbie. "How's she taking all this?" Concern was evident in his voice.

"Better than I thought she would." Robbie recalled the events of the morning with a smile. "She has a lot of faith in our team." In me, he thought to himself with pride.

"I know she does," Matt sighed and placed his head in his hands. "If this ends badly, I'll blame myself, because she was counting on us to protect her."

Robbie slowly absorbed the implications of what had been said. He would not only blame himself if Jackie became the next victim, he would also lose the one person who was always there for him. He needed her, just as much as she currently needed him.

"Call it a night, Robbie. Stuart and I will deal with the paperwork." Matt's words were followed by the appearance of Stuart and Jackie. Robbie glanced up at the clock, surprised the day was over already. Jackie, having said her goodnights, was standing with his coat over her arm, her expression conveying an unspoken question. Waving his goodnights, he answered by way of taking her arm and leading her gently down to the lobby of the building.

"What are you planning to cook for me this evening, Jacks?"

_Fury consumed him as he observed them leaving together once again. His blood boiled as he watched the womaniser whisper tenderly to her, taking bitter note of the term of endearment that slipped unconsciously from his lips. She was as fickle and desperate as the rest of them, and he was resolute in his decision of what had to be done with her. If she could not be his, she would be no one's. _


	7. Chapter 7

_Author's Note: Sorry this chapter had taken me so long to upload – real life has been presenting me with unwelcome distractions. However, I hope you enjoy this latest instalment. _

Cooking dinner to an audience was a new experience for Jackie. The mere presence of Robbie drove her to distraction, let alone when he was perched at her kitchen counter, joking with her as she chopped vegetables. She marvelled at how at home he managed to look, quaffing a beer and recounting amusing anecdotes from past cases. As he casually leant back in his seat, chuckling about the antics of a constable, her grip loosened on the cutting knife. She jerked her hand away as the blade sliced into her palm, rendered immobile by the searing pain. Robbie was by her side in an instant. Taking her hand tenderly in his own, he dabbed at the gash.

"You're supposed to chop the vegetables, not your hand, Jacks."

She gave him a gentle smile, enjoying the warmth of his caress. Robbie wrapped her hand tightly in gauze, fastening the end.

"Do you need me to kiss it better?"

Her gaze flicked to his face, searching it for mocking. Robbie's expression was one of utmost sincerity as he raised her hand to his lips and placed a kiss on her upturned palm. Heat radiated through her veins and Jackie felt a flush creep up her cheeks. Robbie cleared his throat, before pulling a chair out from the counter.

"You sit down, sweetheart and rest that hand. I'll finish dinner."

Jackie slowly took a seat, unable to meet Robbie's eyes. He mightn't know his way around a kitchen, but he certainly knew how to stir up perplexing emotions. She unconsciously shook herself, before striking up a conversation on a safe, more familiar topic. Perhaps if she ignored them, the intensity of her emotions would diminish.

Robbie tipped the vegetable pieces into the frying pan, trying to ignore the cloud of confusion that was settling on his brain. Cooking dinner for the two of them again felt intimate and domestic, sensations which ordinarily caused Robbie to run a mile. In this case, however, he knew this was exactly where he wanted to be, notwithstanding any psychotic serial killers and directives from his boss. He hadn't wanted to admit it to himself, but seeing her in distress when she had sliced her hand had stirred up unknown sensations in his chest. That sensation hadn't dissipated, even as they conversed on a mundane topic neither of them had any real interest in. He wished he could put a name to what he was feeling, to alleviate his confusion. He was afraid he might say, or do, something stupid because of it.

Dinner turned out to be more enjoyable than Jackie had first anticipated, given that Robbie had taken over chef duties. She offered to help clean up, but he insisted she rest, so she settled in front of the television, switching on something cheesy and cliqued. As he dried the plates, Robbie cracked jokes about the program, getting a kick out of making Jackie laugh. As he replaced the tea towel on the rack, his mobile rang, and he stepped out onto her front porch to answer it after glancing at the caller ID.

"Hey Stuart, find anything?"

"Sergeant Malcolm Copeland," Matt's voice boomed down the line, before Stuart took over. "The duty sergeant on night shift. Bit of an enigma, really. The computer records show he was signed onto the desk computer at the time the call was made. The records show he's searched through Jackie's background and current information, as well as watching all the security tapes from our squad room."

"He phoned in sick for his shift this evening," Matt broke in. "We're on our way. Stay with Jackie until we get there." The connection cut out, and Robbie glanced cautiously up and down the street before stepping back inside the house. Locking the door behind her, he moved to join Jackie on the lounge chair, but hesitated when he observed her curled up, asleep. Her face was arranged in a peaceful expression and a strand of her hair had fallen over one of her eyes. As he placed a blanket over her sleeping body, he brushed that strand of hair behind her ear. At that moment, the confusion lifted and that unknown sensation in her chest became clear to him. His knees gave out, and he knelt beside the lounge, filled with a potent mixture of fear and delight. How should he tell her? How would she react? Would she believe him?

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the doorbell.

_He wished he could have spent more time getting to know her. He had thought she was pure, but her relationship with that skirt chaser painted her otherwise. He hardened his heart, and rang the bell. He was determined that the last words she heard would be his. _


	8. Chapter 8

_Author's Note: Yet again, allow me to apologise for taking so long to upload this chapter. Real life interfers again, unfortunately. However, I hope this chapter provides some compensation for my lengthy absence._

**"Now I see you in the window of a carriage, then a train,**

**Still my mind cannot accept that in your grave you must remain.**

**I hear your voice then turn and see a stranger's form and face**

**Must I wander on tormented place to place to place to place?"**

**_Where In The World; The Secret Garden_**

_Slowly, the door opened and the anticipation that had been building within him since he had arrived on her doorstep reached fever pitch. He nervously wiped his sweat-soaked hands down the legs of his trousers and cleared his throat, his eulogy for her running through his mind. Her name died on his lips as the person who had answered the door came into his line of vision. A cold, steely gaze was trained upon his face, whilst a muscle above the jaw line pulsed threateningly. The man took a step toward him, and he struggled not to flinch as he felt the wave of anger and determination that radiated toward him._

"_Some people, when faced with you, would want to know who it was that all those women you killed reminded you of. I honestly couldn't give a shit why you did it. All I care about is stopping you from hurting the woman in there." The man's voice was a hard whisper which sent a shiver of fear down his spine. He could feel his fingers shaking, but forced himself to make eye contact with the man as he continued. "However, if you feel the need to unburden yourself before I hurt you, start talking. For you at least, the pain will be postponed."_

_Sensing he was no match for his opponent, he began to pace across the porch, choosing his words carefully. He hadn't counted on any obstacles, but was confident that he could outwit this one. _

"I doubt you are familiar with the spectrum of emotions that can be experienced as a result of loving someone. That feeling that you are complete within yourself because of another. Before I met her, I had never experienced that kind of love, and now that she is gone, I never will again. Yet I see her still, in the faces and forms of those women. I chase after her, desperate to catch her and feel those feelings once again. But I never can. And those women, who present me with permanent reminders of my loneliness and unhappiness, torment me. So I ease my torment, and send her beautiful gifts, to remind her of me until we can be together again. Is that the answer you were looking for, detective?"

Copeland stopped pacing, and glanced up toward where Robbie was standing. Robbie's gaze was hard as he took a step toward Copeland and spat out "Love is not an excuse to take the lives of three innocent women."

Copeland shrugged dispassionately. "In your opinion, perhaps. However, until you are faced with the loss of someone with whom you are in love, I doubt that you are in a position to make judgements. Given your reputation, detective, I doubt you will ever be in a position to love someone."

Robbie's fist connected sharply with the side of Copeland's face, propelling him against the door. Shaking out his hand, Robbie made to punch Copeland again; however, Copeland thrust out a knee, which connected with Robbie's stomach. Winded and doubled over, Robbie could only watch as Copeland opened the door to Jackie's house, stepped inside, and locked the door behind him.

_He was alone with her in the house. _


End file.
